Thursday, December 8, 2022

A masterpiece of music: Joshua Tree

Masterpiece: Joshua Tree was a career defining album for U2
Across my collection of music, which stretches to a few hundred singles and albums, there is only one item by U2. But it is also a recording that I constantly return to. It is the most satisfyingly complete album of the past 40 years.

Joshua Tree was released in 1987, and I was drawn to it through familiarity of its radio-friendly hit songs, With or Without You, I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, and Where The Streets Have No Name.

The record became part of my life that year and the next, when it was one of three cassettes I carried in my backpack as I set off for a one-year adventure in Australia (the other two cassettes were Suzanne Vega's Solitude Standing, and Robyn Hitchcock's Fegmania).

And so Joshua Tree burnt a place in my psyche as it was played in heavy rotation on my Sony Walkman.

Now, some 35 years on, it continues to be the post-1985 album I can most enjoyably listen to all the way through. Experiencing it through quality headphones allows the music to best work its lulling magic.

Of its 11 tracks the only one I'm ever tempted to skip is Bullet The Blue Sky, which is weaker than the ten shining gems around it.

This masterpiece album has a continuity of atmosphere, musical prowess and songwriting excellence that elevates it above almost anything else that has come and gone in the past four decades of popular music.

U2 deserve full praise for this career defining peak. There was also an important role for the late Kirsty MacColl, who although uncredited on the album, chose the running order that the songs appear in, sculpting the record's faultless flowing musical path.

Joshua Tree captures a moment in time, a mid/late 1980s mood undimmed by the passage of time.

There is only one U2 appearance in my collection, but through Joshua Tree it is a starring one.

Friday, September 9, 2022

A farewell to the Queen

Aussie walkabout: I was fortunate to be standing with well-wishers who
 presented flowers to the Queen in Perth, West Australia, in April 1988
As the news broke last evening that Queen Elizabeth II had died at 96, I tuned in to the television broadcasts, listening for a few hours to the tributes pouring in and watching the people gathering outside Buckingham Palace and Balmoral Castle.

Then I switched off the TV and went for a walk to clear my head. It was nearing 8pm when I headed out into a twilight world strangely silent and closed. I encountered no traffic nor another soul. In the darkening gloom, grey clouds blanketed the sky and hung like half-lowered veils over the hills. Following a forestry planation track I ventured through the showery nightfall.

Strolling alone with my thoughts, I reflected on what the Queen meant to me and to this country and its people, and to countless millions further afield.

In the firmament of life she created a unique connection for many, a connection that is impossible to adequately explain or describe. She was a steady rock in life - a presence beyond the orb of our own lives, yet also a part of ours. She symbolised a wise relative, albeit one beyond our normal reach. Yet whenever a national crisis occurred or celebration was sparked, she had a way to embody and express this and to reassure.

Until now, the Queen was a constant presence in my life. She had already reigned for 14 years by the time I was born. More than half-a-century has passed since.

I've known her through everyday objects, whether it be her portrait on coins and bank notes or on stamps. Even when living abroad in Australia and Bermuda this was much the same case.

And every year on Christmas Day hearing the Queen's message and knowing that something peaceful and steady would be shared with us all reinforced that special connection.

Magical unicorn: A light-hearted letter I wrote to the Daily News 
in Perth, West Australia ahead of the Queen's visit in April 1988
In this era of modern telecommunications she and her family have been welcomed into our homes, and we have been welcomed into hers, in ways and with a broadness experienced by no other monarch of these isles.

In our lives she have been a steadying presence through thick and thin, happy times and troubled.

I treasure a royal mint coin from the 1977 silver jubilee, one of which was given to each pupil at my junior school. That jubilee, and its memorable street parties, was the first recollection I have of the Queen.

Although we never met, I was twice a spectator in the crowds that greeted her - once in Perth, West Australia in 1988, and again in Bermuda in 2009.

She will be remembered as one of the most extraordinary figures in history, and as monarch who embodied the heart and spirit of this country and her people.

We've laughed and celebrated with her and her family, through the jubilees, weddings, and special events like the London Olympics. I'm especially fond of the playful clip of the Queen alongside Paddington Bear at this year's platinum jubilee. 

And yes, there have been sad times - the death of Princess Diana, and of the Queen's cherished husband Prince Philip, and now her departure.

Last evening as I walked the forestry trail I reflected and processed what she meant to me. 

Your Majesty, Queen Elizabeth ... Lilibet. Thank you for all you have added to life's journey. We shall never forget. Peace.

Below: the video of the Queen with Paddington Bear at this year's platinum jubilee celebration.

Wednesday, February 9, 2022

Breakfast club with space heroes

Barbara Bain, right, as Dr Helena Russell in Space:1999. Ms Bain was
a celebrity guest at Autographica, in March 2014
As strange moments in life go it's one that is vivid and does not fade. And that is not by lucky coincidence. 

For there are day-to-day memories, and then there are vivid snapshots - moments in time etched forever in your mind, ready to be replayed whenever you choose.

An example of this "vivid snapshot" technique was the morning I enjoyed breakfast in the company of some of my childhood heroes from the world of science fiction.

Walking into the breakfast room at the conference hotel I saw Kenny Baker, the actor who played R2-D2 in the Star Wars movie. He was seated at a table with actress Valerie Gale, who accompanied him.

He waved and called out "Bermuda" as Heather and I chose a table and sat down. We'd spoken to him the previous day at the reception gathering at the beginning of the March 2014 Autographica event, and that is how he had found out that I'd travelled from Bermuda.

A few moments after I'd entered the breakfast room, Space:1999 actress Barbara Bain also walked in. Like Mr Baker and Ms Gale, she was a celebrity guest for the weekend. She'd attended the reception drinks event held in the atrium at the top level of the Radisson Heathrow hotel on the outskirts of London. Others there included moonwalking Apollo astronauts Buzz Aldrin and Alan Bean.

Star Wars and Space:1999 were touchstone entertainment favourites of mine as I grew up in the 1970s. Now, to be sitting down for breakfast in the same room as two of the well-known names from those sci-fi adventures felt unique and almost unreal.

Shortly afterwards, in the main hotel lobby I encountered Dave Prowse, the man who played Darth Vader in the original Star Wars trilogy.  

Barbara Bain answers audience questions
during the Autograhica weekend, 2014
The conference was filled with other encounters and moments, including opportunities to speak briefly with Ms Bain, Mr Aldrin, Mr Baker, Mr Prowse and others. I wrote about the event in a contemporaneous blog post eight years ago.

That moment at breakfast has remained vivid in my mind, more so than if I'd taken a photograph, and far more than the most other recollections.
 
The reason for such clarity is a technique I deliberately used. It is akin to taking a detailed, mental snapshot. For I was acutely aware how impossible that moment would have seemed to my 11-year-old self; not only seeing a hero from Star Wars and a heroine from Space:1999, but simultaneously in the same hotel dining room for breakfast.

When extraordinary special moments come along in life, use this technique.  Recognise those moments for what they are - gifts in life - and intimately preserve the sights, sounds and feelings by consciously taking in as much as you can to create a snapshot memory.